


until tomorrow comes

by imaginejolls



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Consent, Cunnilingus, Don't copy to another site, F/M, Vague time setting, but i had the early days in mind so around s1, they're kinda drunk but there's:
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 21:21:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18599650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginejolls/pseuds/imaginejolls
Summary: "Bambi," Eliot says.They've been drinking, because that's what they do."I want you tonight."





	until tomorrow comes

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from Fletcher - Wasted Youth

“Bambi,” Eliot says. It is quiet, rather unlike him. He’s looking at her with dark, tired eyes. 

They’ve been drinking, because that’s what they do. His head is in her lap, and there’s a blush creeping into his cheeks. He’s looking up at her like he did a thousand times before this one and like he will probably a thousand more. Margo hums, pitch going upwards in a question. Her hand is in Eliot’s hair, idly playing with his curls. 

“I want …” 

There’s a pause, his eyebrows knit together for a moment. As if he isn’t sure what comes after; he just knows he _wants_ and perhaps he feels bad about the fact itself. But that’s why they have alcohol. Eliot sits up sluggishly so that he can finish the rest of his wine without spilling it all over himself. Then he focuses on Margo’s face again, all of her familiar features in front of him. The word “home” resounds somewhere in the back of his mind whenever he looks at her. 

“I want you tonight,” he says at last. It’s a little uncertain; they don’t really do this. 

Margo lifts her hand to Eliot’s cheek. She caresses his skin with the backs of her fingers, from his jaw to his cheekbone, until her fingers are splayed over his cheek, cupping his face in her palm. Eliot melts into her touch, eyes falling closed on instinct.

“You sure?” she murmurs, waiting for him to open his eyes again, to look at her. 

His eyelids flutter open and he meets her gaze, confident now. “Yeah.” 

“Okay,” Margo says and gets up from the sofa. “Let’s go.” 

 

Margo leads them up the stairs, hands linked, fingers intertwined. They pass a scattered group of underclassmen sitting on the hallway floor, chatting and passing a joint around. They walk through the little group, stepping over outstretched legs carefully. They reach Margo’s room and stumble inside. There’s a small fond smile on Margo’s lips as she sits down on the bed.

Eliot takes a place by the foot of the bed, sinking to his knees more less gracefully. He starts taking off Margo’s shoes without being prompted. There’s a silence. Her heels clap against the floor gently as Eliot sets them aside. He looks up and he looks so soft it’s almost unbearable. Fortunately, he speaks up then and ruins it.

“I bet I could eat you out better than that pathetic straight boy,” he says, a challenging smirk playing on his lips. “What was his name, John? Josh?”

“You think so?” Margo drawls and her eyebrows jerk upwards. “I think it was James. Or maybe Jake, who cares.” 

Eliot chuckles and nuzzles his face into Margo’s thighs. Her skin is warm and soft and familiar. He lets himself get lost in the sensation for a moment, savouring Margo’s presence around him. Her fingers are back in Eliot’s hair, combing through it in soothing motions. 

Eliot inhales deeply through his nose and uncurls from her lap momentarily. “I’m going to take your skirt off.” 

“Okay,” Margo agrees and lets him do his thing. She lies back on the bed and isn’t particularly helpful while he undresses her. His nimble fingers are undoing the buttons on her shirt now. He leaves it on when he’s done. Eliot runs his hands down Margo’s sides, and she squirms; it tickles. 

Eliot takes off his shoes and makes himself comfortable in between Margo’s legs. Their mahogany shade contrasts with his much paler hand as he grabs hold of her hip before ducking his head down. Margo’s legs open further for him, inviting. 

Eliot likes eating pussy the same way some people like eating cake: only on special occasions. But when he’s in the right mood, he dives in with enthusiasm. 

Margo isn’t too wet yet, and that’s okay. Eliot is determined and he remembers well, despite not doing this all that often. Her taste on his tongue is a familiar mix of salty sweet. He presses into her and breathes her in, and then there are fingers in his hair again, resting. Eliot licks up, tongue broad, once, twice. Draws a few fast circles around her clit with the tip of his tongue and then licks up and down her folds again. He feels her wetness against his chin now. Margo tugs on his hair and he hums into her, picks up the pace a little. He builds her up for a while and sucks on her clit, her thighs jerking in response, and then slows down again, broad licks through her labia. He dips his tongue inside of her momentarily, only to withdraw it again. Margo jabs her heel into his shoulder blade. 

“Stop teasing,” she hisses. 

Eliot smiles into her and doubles down on his efforts. His tongue is unrelenting on her clit and he sneaks two fingers inside of her, pushing them in oh so slowly. Margo’s hold on his hair tightens. Eliot’s fingers press upwards, into her abdomen, and he sucks on her clit again. He rocks his fingers, there and back. It’s a small motion but it’s enough. Soon, Margo’s thighs are quivering next to his ears and she tugs on his hair, harsher than before. Eliot moans into her, and then she’s coming. 

Margo pushes Eliot away from her with her foot. When she looks at him again he looks so fucking proud of himself she wants to slap him. There’s a cocky smile on his glistening lips. 

“How did I do?”

“Shut up. And take off your clothes.” 

He makes a show about it. Gives her a flamboyant and still-tipsy striptease to the faint music coming from somewhere in the cottage. They both laugh and then Eliot’s crawling into the bed and he kisses her. Margo can taste herself on his tongue. Their kisses are deep and wild; they suck and bite at each other’s mouths with abandon. Eliot rests his forehead on her own, breathing open-mouthed and heavy. 

“Can I take you from behind?” he asks, voice low. He’s holding himself up so that he can look into Margo’s face properly, spot any sign of hesitation or discomfort. Eliot knows she likes to be in control, won’t give it over without a fight. That’s what he loves about her. 

She almost says: “I swear to god if you pretend I’m a dude…”, but instead she nods, drawing in a ragged breath. Maybe she needs this just as much as he does. 

“Condoms?”

“In the drawer.” Margo points to her heavy desk that stands by the window. 

Eliot rolls off of her, and Margo takes the hint. It is her room, she gets up. And so she does, walks across the room with a grace her own, and grabs a condom. She turns to face Eliot. Her shirt is still on, hanging open by her sides, and her bra as well. She takes it off but leaves the shirt. She’s leaning on the desk, and Eliot is watching her, eyes and mouth both hungry. 

“Come here,” Margo says. It is an invitation. It is a command. 

Eliot doesn’t say a word; he just goes.

He walks towards her, naked and beautiful, and Margo thinks maybe this is what love is. The setting sun hits his bare skin and suddenly, he's golden. Margo outstretches an arm to him, and Eliot takes her hand. He kisses her knuckles, turns her hand around and kisses her palm. He kisses the inside of her wrist next. It is intimate in a way that can only exist between the two of them.

“Are you gonna fuck me, or what?” 

Margo is smiling at him, all fondness and mischief. She rips the packet open and rolls the condom on his half-hard dick. She gives him a few firm pumps. Eliot kisses her smiling; it’s sloppy and open-mouthed and graceless. 

“Yes, Bambi. I’m going to fuck you.” 

His hands were lightly resting on her hips, but now his grips tightens and he uses the leverage to turn her around swiftly. Margo’s hip bones knock against the wood and she lets out a surprised gasp. She only manages to grip the far edge of the desk before Eliot slides into her hot, waiting cunt. 

Margo is tight and slick around him. Eliot isn’t sheathed inside of her fully; maybe they will work up to that, maybe not. He knows that if he were to immediately sink into her to the hilt, she’d probably cut his dick off. His hips draw back a little, then roll forward again. He is slow and deliberate with his thrusts, perceptive to Margo’s reactions to him. He can barely see her profile; her face is turned to him, but obscured from his view by a thick curtain of hair. Eliot scoops it out of the way, pushing to the other side. Margo’s hair flows through his fingers like satin. Tentatively, he grabs a fistful and _tugs_. Margo’s mouth falls open and she moans.

Eliot’s thrusts remain small. Margo shifts, lifts her right foot off the ground. She rests her leg, bent in the knee, flat against the surface of the desk. She’s opening herself up to him, trying to accommodate his size. Eliot snakes a hand through the space she’s just created and rests his long fingers against her labia. His ring finger spans from her clit to the place where he’s splitting her open. He never stops rolling his hips, daring to go deeper now. When he wiggles the tips of his fingers against her sodden, ruined pussy, Margo moans again, so Eliot doesn’t stop. And Margo doesn’t stop moaning. Somebody in the neighbouring room turns up the music. 

Eliot bends down and kisses her neck. “Are you close?”

“Don’t you fucking dare come now,” is all she spits out in response. 

He chuckles into her skin. All of a sudden, he bites down on the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Margo cries out, high and needy, and Eliot bites her again. His fingers are working her clit sloppily, the angle is not ideal and his wrist is beginning to ache. His cock drives into her relentlessly, hitting the sweet spot on her front wall every so often. Margo is rocking against him frantically. She’s holding onto the edge of the desk so hard her knuckles are going white. Her breath comes out in high, needy keens and moans. Neighbouring room turns up the volume.

“Eliot… Eliot _please_.” 

Margo will deny ever begging for anything, but the word tumbles off her tongue so easily, so desperately now. 

Eliot pinches her clit in between two fingers and simultaneously sucks a bruise into the back of her neck. One, two more quick thrusts, and then her muscles tense and she shakes with the intensity of her orgasm before finally collapsing onto the desk. Eliot’s right hand stays trapped underneath her heat. His fingers are wet and sticky, and he’s not particularly a fan of the sensation. But she’s still clenching around his cock and it feels so good, so warm, so tight that he doesn’t care about other discomfort. He thrusts into her over-sensitive cunt a few more times, eliciting a wail from Margo’s throat and then he’s coming as well.

The desk creakes dangerously when Eliot leans onto Margo. There’s a sigh and then the two of them erupt into laughter. 

“Get off of me, asshole. We’re going to break my desk.” 

“I think we’ve already ruined it,” Eliot says, laughter still in the back of his throat. He slides out of Margo slowly and carefully. She lets out a small “oof” and then inhales deeply. 

“Well, that was… intense,” she remarks once she is more composed and sitting on the bed again. Neither of them bothers getting clothed. In fact, Margo finally takes her shirt off.

“But good.” 

Margo sounds almost offended: “Our sex is only ever great.” 

Eliot pulls her into his arms, hugging her close to his chest. Their legs intertwine instantly, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. This is how they’re supposed to be. 

“Except when it’s not.” 

“We don’t talk about those times.” 

Eliot kisses the top of her head. There’s a silence. Their neighbours cautiously turn the volume down. 

“You’re not sleeping over,” Margo mumbles into his chest. 

“Of course I am, bitch.”

**Author's Note:**

> please share your ideas about who Margo's poor neighbour is in the comments below
> 
> also i exist as @imaginejolls on tumblr, you're welcome to hang around and chat


End file.
